


A Storm at War

by LadyArinn



Series: A Future That Changes as We Do [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Ginny Weasley, BAMF Hermione Granger, Best Friends, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Crushes, Depression, F/M, Feelings Realization, Female Friendship, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Horcrux Hunting, Horcruxes, Male-Female Friendship, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Sad Harry, Secrets, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, War, feelings are hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-09 18:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10418112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyArinn/pseuds/LadyArinn
Summary: War had come and has engulfed the world Hermione had known, and she must try her best to protect herself, everyone she loves, and the secrets she has to keep.How will it all change, now that Draco is on the Order's side? How will Hermione change, now that Draco is her ally, friend, and maybe something more?





	1. Omissions

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the first chapter I promised! I'm not going to post the rest for a while, since it's not done yet, but It's happening. I just wanted to post this since it was promised.

Their train compartment is silent as it pulls onto platform 9 ¾. Ginny, Neville, and Luna had tried their best to keep up a conversation the whole ride from Hogwarts, but any time they’d tried to draw in Harry, Ron, or Hermione the three’s answers would be too forced or melancholy for comfort. Even Crookshanks was completely silent and still, curled up in Hermione’s lap and watching the rest of the compartment with a suspicious eye.

Hermione wished that she could do better but she couldn’t get her mind off of what had happened. Off of Draco and all the secrets she was keeping, off of the promises she had made and everything that had changed.

And then there was also everything that was going to happen now. What she was going to have to do, and how hard everything was going to be.

She had to help Harry with his search for the horcruxes, and she had to think everything through because there were logistics the boys would never even think of. Like where were they going to get food, and where were they going to hide out? How were they going to maintain a low profile, and manage to do everything they needed to without being found by Voldemort and his ilk?

She had to protect Draco, hiding everything she knew about him and nearly every memory of him from the past year. She had to _lie_ , and keep on lying to everyone because this was something she couldn’t mess up. It was life or death, and she was determined to make sure it ended with life.

And her parents…

The train jerked to a stop, and their compartment sat still as they listened to the bustle of everyone else getting up and dragging their trunks out, the thud of doors opening and closing repeatedly, the call of voices outside as children were reunited with their families.

Luna was the first to move, standing and taking a quick step forward to lean over and wrap Ron in a hug. The boy seemed surprised for a moment, blinking over at Hermione, but then he caught on and awkwardly patted the girl on her back.

“Er… Thanks.” He squeaked out, a slight flush on his face blooming when she pulled back to smile sweetly at him. Then she stepped to the side and did the same to Hermione, careful not to squish the cat on her lap, and Hermione didn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around the girl and burying her face in the younger girl’s hair, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to cry but trying her best not to.

Luna smelled like lemongrass, and her hair was silky soft to the touch. Her hug was surprisingly firm and comforting, and Hermione didn’t even mind that her bumble bee earrings were buzzing next to her ear.

Luna pulled back with a tender kiss to Hermione’s cheek that left the girl blinking away the pool of tears in her eyes, and they smiled at each other for a moment.

Harry came next, and the boy held on tightly through the duration of it, face pressed into her shoulder but Hermione could still see the tightness of his forehead, and could tell he was close to tears himself. Their hug lasted the longest, and when Luna pulled back she pressed a kiss to his cheek as well, just a bit longer than Hermione’s.

“Goodbye. I will see you at Fleur and Bills wedding.” She told them with a touch of confidence that they all needed in that moment. They murmured back the sentiment and off she went, dragging her trunk behind her. Neville stood next, rocking forward with his hands lifting as if going in for a hug as well, but he stopped himself in a clumsy jerk. He settled for just waving at them awkwardly and mumbling a quick goodbye before leaving as quickly as he could.

“Well,” Ginny huffed as she stood, looking out the window instead of at any of them, her shoulders just a bit too stiff and her casualness just a bit too forced, “Let’s get going then. It’s not like sitting here is going to actually put anything off.”

And so they all pulled down their trunks and made their way out, going over to where Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them. They all made sure to put on a happy face for the woman, pretending like everything in the world was fine.

“Hello dears, how did your tests go?” She asked, a farce of her usual brightness. “Good? That’s good. Oh, Harry,” She sighed when she focused on the boy, stepping forward to envelope him in a tight, comforting hug. “I’m so sorry about Dumbledore. I know I didn’t get to say so at the time, but I am. I know what he meant to you.” She says, and Harry soaks up the comfort like a dry sponge, eyes growing a bit damp.

“Hermione, where are your parents, dear?” The woman asked once she and Harry were done with their moment, and Hermione smiled reassuringly at her.

“At the muggle station, waiting with the car.” She said, and the woman nodded.

“Oh, that’s alright then. I suppose we should make our way out, then, and Ginny! Ginny, when we get home you _must_ help me talk sense into Fleur about the cake.” She started, hurrying off toward the exit with Ginny on the expectation that the rest would follow.

They hesitated, though, sharing a solemn look.

“We’ll see each other at the end of July.” Hermione whispered, reaching out to grab each of their hands for a quick squeeze. The boys both nod, and off they go.

_It’ll be fine._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“And you’ll never guess _who_ got put in the papers the other day,” Her mother continued as they entered the house, her father puffing a bit behind them as he carried her trunk in, leaving them to go up the stairs to set in her room.

“Who?” Hermione asked as she released Crookshanks to reacquaint himself with the house.

“Benji Carmichael! You remember, the one who-“

“Who got chased into that shed fifth year by that dog, yeah. And they couldn’t find him-“

“For two days! Right! Well, he got in the papers because he started this thing to try and help people get over their fear of dogs, and he’s involved the local shelters and everything. He runs a group out of the church on fifth.” She exclaimed as they walked back to the kitchen, the older woman getting out the makings of tea.

“Oh,” Hermione blinked, trying her best to remember the boy. He’d been in the class down the hall from hers up until the dog incident, and then his parent’s had pulled him out because of how badly the attack had shaken him. She was pretty sure he had had a lisp. “Well, that’s good.”

“Yes, his parents are quite proud. Maggie says that she thinks it’s all just attention grabbing and that it’s a stupid idea. _I_ told her that, of course, it was an incredibly meaningful thing for him to do with his trauma.” Her mother sniffed, getting out the package of Hermione’s favorite biscuits they always got when she was coming home. “And oh, speaking of Maggie, you’ll never guess what her girl’s got up to _now_. I swear, it makes a mother thankful to have a sweet child like you.” She huffed, and Hermione hid her guilt amazingly well.

After all their catching up was done for the day Hermione went up to her room, a smile on her face because she had missed her parents.

_She was going to miss her parents._

It was on this somber thought that she opened her bedroom door to find her room looking almost exactly like she left it. The same lace curtains hanging over her window, the same soft quilt laid over her crisp blue sheets. Ceiling high bookshelves stuffed full with books, with stragglers stacked carefully against the far war. Her desk covered with papers and with a mixture of pens and old quills in a cup on top, all of her pictures tacked to the wall. So much hadn’t changed.

What had changed was only two things: one was that there were new books from her parents laid out on her bed, and the other was that there was a squat, fat owl sitting at her window with a package.

“Hello.” Hermione greeted cautiously since she’d never seen the owl before, and the owl screeched harshly at her in answer, like it had gotten tired of waiting for her. She comes forward and accepts the package from the owl, promising to give it a treat in moment, doing the smart thing first and  checking everything over with a quick inspection spell before touching any of it.

The letter was opened first.

_Granger,_

_I know I’m not supposed to contact you, but I felt like I had to send you this. I found this in our searches of the books in the room. I hid it from you because after living around them my entire life I know a dark object when I see one, so I had to get the curses around it taken care of first. Everything is fine with it now._

_Oh, and since this was risky enough, the owl won’t be coming back. Do as you like with him._

That was it, and Hermione didn’t need a signature to know who the letter was from. She’d have to be thick not to know from the prattish tone alone.

With a quick look to her new owl Hermione busied herself with opening the package it had brought her, finding a plain blue dragonhide bound, title-less book nestled in the paper. Wondering why he’d felt like risking so much just to send her the book, Hermione opens it curiously, only to drop it to the floor a moment later.

The owl ruffles its feathers a bit, distressed that it’s package was being so thoroughly mishandled, and Hermione ignores it as she quickly stoops down to pick it up, hands shaking as she reads the inside of the cover again.

_My Dearest Theodosia,_

_I will not publish this, because I did not do this for the world. I studied and tested and searched for you, my darling girl. I know how terrible it’s been for you, living with the trauma. And I refuse to use obliviate on you because I have seen how wrong it can go. How it can make you lose yourself as well as the terrible memories._

_Use these spells, my beautiful girl. Make a new life and forget me. Forget everything that has pained you. I love you enough to give you a whole new life, should you choose it._

_I adore you, no matter your choice,_

_Papa_

A part of her hissed that it might not be what she thought, but as she stumbled back to sit heavily on her bed she flipped through and came upon page after page of trials and tests of memory spells and potions. And finally, at the very end, a singular perfected memory wiping spell with a reversal spell attached.

Hermione stared at that spell for ages, even as the sun went down and her new owl began to impatiently hoot at her, her shaking fingers tracing over the long ago dried ink.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Mum, Dad?” Hermione interrupted as they sat on the couch watching a trivia show they were preparing to bicker over. The couple stopped and instantly turned to where their daughter stood nervously in the doorway, her tone of voice instantly concerning them.

“What is it, dear?” Her father asked worriedly, and Hermione averted her gaze and blinked rapidly to try and compose herself.

“I have to tell you something.” She whispered, moving to set between them when they patted the middle cushion of the couch in invitation. And then, taking a deep breath, she told them everything. She told them about the muggleborn prejudice in the wizarding world, about how there was a mad man on the loose set on killing every single one of them, leading an army who believed his word as law. A man who tortured and killed muggles and wizards alike if they opposed him or his views.

She told them about Harry, everything she could about Harry and how Voldemort wanted him dead because Harry was the only one who could defeat him. About the danger that put her in because she was his muggleborn best friend.

“Lord… Hermione!” Her mother breathed, on the verge of tears by the time she was done, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” The girl whispered, falling into her mother’s embrace and holding on tight. “And… I was scared.”

“We’re scared too, love.” Her father whispered shakily, his hand petting her hair carefully. “We…”

“We need to leave.” Hermione said into the comfort of her mother’s chest. “We need to leave Britain before the war gets started for real, and before Voldemort can manage to gain any more power. It’s… It’s not safe here.” Her parents were silent for a long, heavy moment, communicating with one another over Hermione’s head with their eyes.

“Well,” Her mother sighed after a moment. “We’ve always talked about going to Australia.”

As her parents talked about the logistics Hermione kept her head down, hiding her resigned, dry eyes from her parents.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently, luckily, there had been someone interested in buying the practice for a while, so that part of their lives was easy enough to handle. They had enough savings to abandon the house all together since it was fully paid off, that way they didn’t have to endanger the next people who would move into the house.

Then it was only a matter of packing what they needed and buying the plane tickets when they got to the airport.

The next two weeks passed in a hectic and frantic hurry to get everything done in time, and without sleep for the young witch, who spent all her nights sitting up in her room and practicing her new spell on her new owl. She felt bad for doing such a thing to the innocent creature, but she had to have it perfected as soon as possible and _know_ that it would work.

Her parents had accepted the animal’s sudden appearance with no small amount of exasperation, but they didn’t have the heart to deny her anything at the moment. Her father had even named it Pippin, with a wistful look in Hermione’s direction as he remembered the simpler times.

She let him. It would make everything… Easier.

“Hermione, hurry up!” Her mother called up the stairs, the girl standing in her room for what she knew may very well be for the last time. Her books had been thoroughly ransacked, and her closet was now almost completely empty. But other than that everything was as it had always been, and it hurt so much more than Hermione had ever expected.

“Coming Mum!” She called down, gripping her wand tightly and lowering her head as she trudged down the stairs. Her parents sat facing away from her on the couch, their bags all packed in the entry way. They were worriedly watching the news with new eyes, knowing that Voldemort was behind the vicious attacks the news caster was talking about. Hermione stared at the backs of their heads and wished that she could say something to them, wished that she could tell them she loved them just one more time but…

She couldn’t see their faces when it happened.

“ _Memoriae perditus._ ” She cast, forcing her words to be crisp and clear as she pointed her wand at the back of their heads. They went limp a moment later, bodies sinking back into the couch and onto one another, and Hermione took a breath before doing the spell that would build up entirely new lives for them. Lives in which they had never had or had thought of having a daughter.

Once done, she straightened her back and moved over to Pippin, who sat watching her in his new cage.

“If anything happens to them, come find me.” She told the animal, who hooted at her in agreement. Hermione turned to leave, going to grab her suitcases and coming to a halt when she took in the sight of Crookshanks sitting imperiously on top of them.

She picked him up and cradled him close, walking away from the people who were no longer her parents. Not really.


	2. Shall We Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione prepares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> So, life's been super busy and I'm not done writing this yet, but ya'll have been so great and have been leaving so many lovely comments that I had to at least post this. Thank you for your support, and I swear this is gonna keep going soon(ish).
> 
> Love you so much! Just like all you guys deserve to be loved.

Molly Weasly welcomed her into her home with open arms, as she always had, and no one questioned why she’d shown up unannounced. They just assumed that this was where she was meant to be, and Hermione had nearly perfected hiding how she felt in the past months so there were no questions.

Everything went fine.

She busied herself with helping out with the innumerable preparations for the upcoming wedding – something that took a lot more time than she had truthfully been expecting – and helping out around the busy house. She also began collecting and packing things away for whatever was coming, spelling a small bag with an illegal expanding charm she’d figured out by extensively studying the charms on the Weasley’s tent during the nights she couldn’t sleep. And, seeing as every night was a night that she couldn’t sleep, she figured out the spells quite quickly and so she began filling it with things she was sure they would need and things that were there just for emergencies and contingencies, and things for contingencies for her contingencies.

She didn’t let herself think. She couldn’t let herself.

Ginny seemed to be in a similar sort of mood, and together they systematically and viciously went through their tasks.

Mrs. Weasley wanted them to get the gnomes out of the garden? Ginny went out and practiced her meanest spells on the small creatures, teeth bared and sparks dancing through the air around her from dozens of spells cast in quick succession. In the end her hair was in tangles, her face was flushed and slick with sweat, but there were no gnomes in the garden. They’d all run away farther than they ever had before, terrified of the witch.

Mr. Weasley’s shed needed fixing up, so that it looked proper for the wedding? Well, Hermione had helped her father make a cabinet once, and that was _without_ magic. So she studied an old, tattered book on building magic she’d found on a weary bookshelf in the living room – that must have only been half studied, if you took the Burrows _everything_ as evidence – for a few hours, and then she attacked the shed with a thoroughness and singlemindedness it had never seen before. She pried out crooked boards and pulled up crumbling shingles with a precise wave of her wand, a sharp flick sending nails pounding into new and exactly laid boards. By the end of the day the shed was pristine and Hermione had left the Weasley’s looking at it in shock and awe, in search of something else to keep busy with.

And so it went. Ginny pulled up all the weeds in the lawn and tamed some wild vines that were creeping up the side of the house in a little under two hours. Hermione had the entire house cleaned by an overwhelming army of soaring dust rags and scrub brushes following her strict commands. Ginny had the cluttered kitchen organized after an afternoon filled with a cacophony of violent bangs and bit-off curses, and Hermione had every rug and curtain in the house beaten so thoroughly that dust and dirt would think twice before dirtying them again.

The Weasley’s all edged around them, hesitating to ask about the reasons for their sudden aggression. Hermione didn’t mind it all that much, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists and keeping her focus forward.

The coin stayed cool in her pocket.

A squat little owl never appeared at her window.

Hermione woke up each day and worked toward something she didn’t even understand anymore. She readied herself for war and wondered who she would be, and what world would be there for her afterward.

One day she stood at the kitchen window and watched as Ginny sat on her broom outside, hovering just above the grass and not moving, not yet. She was staring off into the distance with a wistfulness that _ached,_ ratty clothes hanging off of lanky limbs and her hair pulled back in an absent sort of way. There was dirt on her hands and face from earlier work in the garden, and for a moment Hermione understood art in a way she had never been able to do before. Because that slice of a moment was beautiful and all encompassing, like a story that had gotten its proper ending, and Hermione wanted to capture it and keep it close.

Then the moment folded away and Ginny gripped her broom hard, shooting off with a sudden violence and energy that had Hermione wondering what she was thinking about.

She wondered what would happen to the girl, after everything. It seemed that everyone had just assumed she would get back together with Harry once they’d won the war and everything was happy and simple again, that everything would return to how it had been and… Well. What if that didn’t happen?

Because that moment of stillness, Hermione hadn’t seen a girl that would just go back to how everything had been. She hadn’t seen someone who was accepting what was happening in the gracious way that everyone thought. She’d seen a monument being built, a pillar constructing itself around the feeling of dissatisfaction, and it had been glorious.

When it was unveiled, it would be breathtaking. No one would see it coming or know how to handle it.

Hermione wondered if that was what she was doing. Hermione wondered – hand in her pocket, rubbing her thumb over the fake coin held within – what people saw when they looked at her.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Ron called from the doorway, hesitating and watching her like he was worried about how she would react, “What are you doing?”

She was reading about muggle wilderness survival methods, just in case, but the look on his face had her setting the book aside, cover down, and saying vaguely, “Just reading.”

“Oh.” Ron said awkwardly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the too-big things sliding down a bit at the force of it.

Hermione watched him for a moment, sitting the bed the Weasley’s always gave her in Ginny’s room with Crookshanks curled against her side, stuck in this feeling of running while drowning and choking on the stone in her gut and all she could feel was… Guilt.

“How are you, Ron?” She asked quietly, and the boy shrugged.

“Good. You know.” He mumbled, looking off to the side before looking at her. “How’re you?” He asked, his eyes direct and firm and strong and she’d forgotten that part of him, how could she have ever forgotten this strength in him? A warmth bloomed in her chest and a small smile curled her lips, and for a moment she could breathe for what felt like the first time in ages.

“I’m fine.” She told him, uncertain for herself if it was a lie or a truth. But after watching her for a moment Ron nodded and relaxed a bit, and that was good enough for her.

“Moody’s coming over to talk to us about how we’re handling going to get Harry.” He told her quilt, and she drew her legs up so that he could sit with her.

“I know.” She nodded, watching him and wondering if this was the same feeling she’d had for so long, and why she felt so… Awkward in all the wrong ways.

They felt a bit like strangers, but that was probably just her. That was probably just all of the secrets she was keeping locked up tight.

“Hey,” Ron prodded after a silence she suddenly realized had gone on for a few beats too long, a bit of a laugh in his voice, “Do you want to hear something weird?” He didn’t give her time to answer, “So Bill, he’s been having all these cravings for raw meat and everything since his attack, right? Well, I heard him talking to Lupin during the last Order talk and,” He paused to snicker, “And he was asking if it was normal to, _you know_ , get really excited every full moon.”

It took a moment for her to connect the dots, but when she did Hermione couldn’t help the sound of disgust that tore out of her.

“I didn’t have to know about that, _Ronald_!” She shrieked, shoving the wildly laughing boy and nearly forcing him off the bed. With an angry yowl Crookshanks leapt off the bed and walked over to his favorite spot by the window, tail held prissily up in the air as he went. “Now I know that about _Bill_! I don’t want to know _anything_ like that about Bill! He’s a banker!” She pounded his shoulder with her fist when he collapsed on his side on the bed, long legs hanging off. “Ron!”

“W-What d-does him being a banker have to do w-with anything?” He hiccupped out, snickering and bringing his arms up to protect his head from her slaps.

“I don’t _know!”_ She cried, laughing despite herself, and their eyes met for a moment and everything went soft and _good_ as they calmed down.

“I’ve missed you.” She found herself saying rawly, and Ron nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

* * *

 

The next day the members of The Order filtered in, each person questioned harshly at the end of a wand because times were difficult and they had to be sure. Hermione heard the door knock and each time she held her wand tightly, breathing deeply as she listened to every answer, waiting for the moment an answer would be gotten wrong, or they’d try to brush off the question as a joke.

With every knock she meticulously planned her attack, and despite every person passing the test she couldn’t relax.

They all filtered into the kitchen, sitting around the packed table and talking with hushed voices as dinner was readied around them by the spells Mrs. Weasley had cast that morning.  They planned how they would gather Harry – Mundungus’ plan with the Polyjuice potion was accepted with some surprise, since no one had expected him to come up with anything good – and they decided who would be going.

Hermione was honestly surprised when Arthur Weasly, with his kind face and his soft hands, and who had never really gone to war before, was the first to step forward.

“Arthur!” Molly protested, making a sound when all of their gathered children immediately followed.

“It’s Harry, Molly.” He said calmly, a serene strength about him Hermione had never really noticed, “I would do the same for any of our children.”

They stared at each other for a moment before the kind faced woman finally nodded once, sharply.

“I’ll stay here then,” She said quietly, “And keep it safe for you with the rest of the girls.”

“I vil go as vell.” Fluer announced proudly as she stood, earning a shocked look from her intended mother-in-law, “I must make sure Bill does not ‘et harmed. He must not miss ze vedding.” She declared, slipping her hand into her fiancé’s as he looked at her fondly.

Hermione stood without a word, the other adults following after until Moody nodded.

“That’s good then.” He grunted, their planning done for the moment. After a pause – Hermione didn’t really know if she should sit down now or what – Tonks and Lupin shared a look.

“Well, since we’re all gathered here,” Tonks mused, “I guess this is a good of a time as any to ask if you’d like to come to our wedding.”

“Oh. Oh!” Molly gasped, blinking with her shock, “This is… Yes! Of course! When is it?”

“Oh…” Tonks hummed, looking down at her watch while Lupin busied himself with smiling into his hand and watching the rest of them, “In about an hour.”

“What!?” Everyone cried out as the couple watched, pleased.

“It will be at Andromeda and Ted’s house in an hour.” Lupin said as if there was nothing wrong with the situation, and there was a moment of frozen shock before almost every single one of them burst into movement.

Molly barked orders at her children, shouting for Ginny to hurry up and come down, freezing the working spells all around the kitchen that had still been busy with making dinner.

“If you had told us earlier-“ Molly began, and Tonks grinned.

“Oh, we thought a surprise would work out much better.” She said happily as everyone scrambled to get ready and go.

Moody declined the invitation because, apparently, he hated weddings, and Mundungus just disappeared at some point, but Kingsly smiled kindly and agreed to officiate and patiently waited for all the Weasleys to get themselves together so that they could leave.

It took a bit, what with everyone running around with a small flare of generic panic at the sudden surprise, but eventually it was managed and they all went through the floo one after another, carrying platters of their dinner, which would be eaten after.

The ceremony wasn’t really a ceremony, just a gathering of all of them in the Tonks’ living room as the bride and groom stood in the middle, chairs and tables pushed to the walls and piled atop each other to make room for everyone. There were no flowers or decorations, but Tonks’ grin was bright and happy, and Lupin’s eyes were soft and caring throughout.

Andromeda and Ted cried, and everyone cheered once they sealed their union with a kiss.

And as Molly and Andromeda finished their large feast Hermione watched everyone laugh together and celebrate this happy moment together, and she settled a bit. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t forgetting. She wasn’t… She wasn’t _calm_.

But as Fred grabbed her hand and pulled her into a dance in the middle of the living room filled with crazy steps that were too wide and twirls that were too fast, she threw her head back and smiled because this was good. It was good and for a moment she was okay.

For a moment, just a moment, everything quieted just long enough for her to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a great day! I'll be seeing you eventually.


End file.
